


That Drunken Night

by ShihoMiyano



Series: Family, Past and Present [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Magic, Mystrade monday prompt, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:15:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShihoMiyano/pseuds/ShihoMiyano
Summary: The drunken night mentioned in Chapter 5 of 'A Gentle Push (nay Shove!) was Required'. This can be read on its own though it makes slightly more sense after completely reading Part1. Heavy reference to Season 3 Episode 2 The Sign of Three.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Family, Past and Present [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931725
Kudos: 8





	That Drunken Night

**Author's Note:**

> My client did not gave all the information required to begin our project so I produced this instead.
> 
> Based on Mystrade Monday Prompt from tumbler account @mystradepromptsandscenarios #6 I made a mistake, and #7 I can take care of myself just fine.

_HELP.  
BAKER ST.  
NOW. _

"It's him isn't it?" said Sally. 

_HELP ME.  
PLEASE. _

"I-I-I have to go." Greg on the verge of panicking.

"What?!" Sally, shocked. 

"You make the arrest." 

"No way!" 

"Sorry, you'll be fine. I'm-I'm-I'm cool with it." Greg stammered, trying to calm himself down. 

"Jones will get all the credit if you leave now! You know he will!" Sally tried to convince Greg not to give up all his effort in arresting the Waters family. 

Greg tried to point his mind to agree with Sally but his worry for Sherlock won. The man had just returned from dealing with Moriaty's network after two years after all. 

"Yeah, well… Yeah, it doesn't matter, I'll have to go." Greg ran out of the room. Sally sighed and continued with their operation. 

Greg unlocked his phone and tapped on a contact widget in his phone's second screen as he was running to his car. He immediately yelled into the phone, "Back-up. I need maximum back-up. Baker Street, now!" Got into his BMW and sped off. 

A certain minor government official had forced the car on to him as a present on his promotion to DCI rank, as gratitude for his patience with his brother and an apology for the ordeal from the time he was ordered to arrest Sherlock, the suspension from work, and to the court case. The minor government official had wanted to do more but Greg stopped him at just the car.

\---

Greg's car halted in the middle of the lane and parked there. He got out from the car, rushed into unit 221B, quickly ran up the stairs and into Sherlock's living room. The worry and backup were wasted on Sherlock wanting to write his best man speech. 

Greg apologised vehemently to Mycroft on the phone for the misunderstanding. After he was done yelling at Sherlock, he drove himself to a location sent to him by Mycroft. It was rather late at night or early in the morning depending on one's perception on time. The mist was getting thicker. 

Greg reached a gate blocking his way to reaching the GPS location but the gate opened after a few seconds to allow him entry. The ginger haired man was waiting for him at the front door as Greg parked his car in the driveway. 

"Good evening, DCI Lestrade." Mycroft said nonchalantly. 

"Mycroft, told you to call me Greg." 

"Gregory." 

Greg sighed. He can live with that. Curse Gustave for using the English version of his name on the documents. Greg noticed Mycroft was without his jacket and his tie was slightly undone. Oh how he wished he could take off that tie. Greg followed Mycroft into a room with a fireplace. The room was warm and comfortable. 

"Pick your poison for the night, Gregory." Mycroft waved his hand towards the bar while he picked up a whiskey tumbler from a side table and drank the content in one gulp. 

"Bad day too?" While he poured out presumably the same whiskey as Mycroft drank into his tumbler since it was out on the bar counter. 

"So it was." Mycroft walked over to the bar counter and poured himself some more of that potent whisky. The taller man gestured to Greg to sit in the armchair opposite of the one Mycroft was presumably occupied earlier. 

They sipped their whiskey for the night quietly by the crackling fire, topping up after one another that they managed to finish up two whole bottles. Mycroft drank most of it though. Greg was feeling his exhaustion seeping into his bones the longer he was there. The alcohol and lack of sleep probably helped. He looked at Mycroft and saw that the younger man was looking at him with a hungry glint in his eyes. 

"Mycroft, are you all right?" Greg asked, feeling a bit worried about the look on the man who is highly skilled in killing people but had always pretended he was as weak as a worm. 

Mycroft put down his tumbler and stumbled over to Greg. He put his knee just below Greg's crotch on the armchair and pushed Greg back on to the backrest with both hands on his shoulder. Mycroft's eyes were becoming more dilated as time passed. 

"M-My-Mycroft, w-what are you d-do-doing?" For the second time, Greg was trying not to panic. His body, on the other hand, found the act very pleasing and was reacting to this by growing his cock larger and hardening it. 

Mycroft's lips touched Greg's softly and gently, taking his time to feel Greg's lips then tasting it when he changed to licking. They parted for air after a while. Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft, kissed the man back and thoroughly explored Mycroft's mouth with his tongue. By then, Mycroft's hands were feeling up his body. 

Mycroft moved his hands up under Greg's jacket from his torso to shoulder and slid Greg's jacket off as his hands slid down from the silver haired man's shoulder to his arms. His hands then slid back up to his shoulder and down over both his nipples to his belt. The long fingers unfastened his belt buckle. 

Greg at the same time had unbuttoned Mycroft's waistcoat. He pulled the silk tie out of its knot and threw it off. Greg unfastened Mycroft's belt buckle and pulled the belt out from the trousers. They removed those pieces of clothing while kissing and tongue fucking each other's mouth. 

Booming thunder and lightning strikes, and the lights flickered for a bit. Mycroft stood up and staggered. Greg attempted to stabilise Mycroft and both of them fell down on the floor with Greg on Mycroft. Greg tried to get off the warm body but somehow it was quite slippery and they seem to be dry humping each other's crotch. Mycroft was making noises which sounds Greg was falling in love with and they resumed kissing, this time with little bites in their neck and sucking on them. 

The buttons on Mycroft's shirt were too small and slippery to unbutton so he tore open the dress shirt and his mouth went for Mycroft's left nipple to suck and lick while his other hand teased the other nipple. The melodious groaning and panting by Mycroft became louder. 

There was a loud crash from the floor above. Both men bolted up from the floor, one armed with his handgun, the other somehow had his skinny sword and a handgun. 

They crept up to the floor above covertly. More crashing heard from an unused bedroom. Mycroft opened the door and the armed men rushed in. 

"Hands up! Police!" yelled Greg. 

The crashing stopped but something was moving in the dark towards them at high speed. Mycroft grabbed Greg and got them out of the room. He slammed the door and muttered something. The door and walls had moving glowing hieroglyphs and something screamed in agony from inside the room. Then there was silence. 

Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand to another room at another part of the house. His skinny sword and gun were nowhere to be seen. After they entered the room, the ginger grabbed the duvet and pillows from the bed and proceeded to another room. Greg found himself in the bathroom. Mycroft threw the duvet and pillows into the bathtub and shoved Greg into it. He muttered something about best to be near his element if they got attacked again. 

They slipped and slid on each other while trying to get comfortable and ended up dry humping each other's crotch again because it felt so so good. Mycroft yanked Greg's shirt that button flew off it and gave Greg many marks on his neck, collar bone and jaws. They panted and moaned each other's name then stilled as cum exploded into their pants. Both drifted off to sleep immediately after. 

\---

Anthea knew Mr. Holmes was infatuated with one DCI Lestrade after she had observed his manner whenever the DCI's name was mentioned, especially during and after their meeting. The Princess had told her that her godbrother was smitten since the first time he laid eyes on the silver haired man but she thought the then 7 years old was saying something innocent like the love for a friend. Nope. Mr. Holmes, the Iceman was besotted with Gregory Lestrade. But back then, the then DS Lestrade was still married and to a woman so it would explain why Mr. Holmes did not say or do anything about the infatuation even after the divorce was finalised.

The driver informed her that Mr. Holmes did not answer his door or phone calls for the past 10 minutes. Also, DCI Lestrade's car was parked at the driveway. Anthea called for armed guards, just in case, and set off to the house. The security system was in place, no non-magical breeches were reported. 

She found them asleep in each other's arms in the bathtub with the duvet and pillows. The air smelled of whisky. The two men were dishevelled but still dressed. Mr. Holmes's dress shirt was off his shoulders and his skin had many angry red marks on his neck, nipples and jaw. DCI Lestrade was wearing a torn shirt with similar red markings on his skin. She gave them a glass of water each to drink. They accepted it and emptied the glass as fast as they could. DCI Lestrade asked what the hell happened but they fell back to sleep in the tub again thereafter. 

Anthea dismissed the guards and called Newt and Clarky to check on their respective employer's location. They were out of London at the moment so she decided to call the Princess. She told the Princess what happened and sent her photos of the two men in the tub. The princess sent her butler over to clean up and check for magical related breeches while she was still in the middle of a surgical procedure. 

DCI Lestrade woke up again when Okumiya-san tried to shift them to the bed but the glassy eyed man insisted that he could drive home. They let the stubborn man do so with an escort. Lord knows how Mr. Holmes will react if his beloved man got involve in an accident. She had rearranged Mr. Holmes' schedule and Clarky had helped her to arrange the DCI to be in MI5's service for the day. 

The Princess arrived after a few hours and came into Mr. Holmes' bedroom after he was done vomiting. 

"Why did you wasted the opportunity to have sex with the person of your desire?" the Princess lamented. "Oh but there was dry humping and Shi-chan said he had to clean some sort of white sticky substance off you." the cheeky girl had checked on the CCTV footage while on her way over. 

"OI!" said Mr. Holmes and he fell back to bed groaning while clutching his head mumbling "I made a mistake." and slept for the rest of the day after his godsister force fed him some congee. 

\---

Greg woke up at about 4pm. He was still experiencing a dull headache but felt better than earlier. He couldn't remember much of what happened except that he was with Mycroft in a room, drinking whisky. He grabbed his phone and looked at the time. Oh crap, he had missed the entire day of work! There was a message from Sally saying the Waters gang were apprehended and there's a press conference this evening at 8pm and he was required to be there. Another message by Anthea saying she had arranged for him to be with MI5 for the day but he cannot get away from the press conference. 

_Hey, you okay? - GL_

Greg sent a message to Mycroft. The policeman stretched on his bed and patted for his gun. The gun was secured in his holster but his shirt was untucked, torn, and missing some buttons. His crotch felt like a mess. What the heck happened?

Greg striped and noticed his boxers stuck on him. He blushed as the hazy memories of humping Mycroft came back to him. He saw his reflection on his mirror, and Holly Shit! Red marks everywhere! God, Sally's never gonna let it go if she spotted any, argh! He rushed into the shower after looking at the time again. 

He decided to wear a bloody tie to cover up what he could of the marks. Thankfully he still has enough clean clothes for work or he would have to wear his suit meant for the wedding. 

Sally debriefed him in his office while pretending to ignore the visible marks on his jaw. Apparently Chief Superintendent Jones did almost take full credit for the entire operation but Commissioner Styles announced that the press conference will be by one DCI Lestrade. Also, the media had expected him to appear even before the announcement was made, somehow. Thanks, Anthea?

\---

With the press conference done and dusted, Greg headed back to his office just to be alone for a while. He may be good with people but it doesn't mean he likes being around people all the time. They can be tiring. Mycroft has not replied to his message. Oh boo hoo, maybe he's still sleeping. He did drink a lot… 

Let me know if you need anything all right? You drank too much last night. - GL

\---

Mycroft woke up and it was dark. He couldn't feel anyone's presence around him. He still felt sluggish but forced himself to uncurl and drank some water. Okumiya-san had left some sandwiches in a charmed container so that the sandwich was not soggy and remained warm. What the hell happened? He was drinking in front of the fireplace and then, oh, and then Gregory called and yelled in panic saying he needed maximum backup at Baker Street. Then, what happened then? 

He made his way to the washroom, relieved himself and washed his hands. Then sat on his bed, and checked his personal phone. Gregory sent two messages to him and Kathleen sent a photo of him snuggling in Gregory's arms.

SHIT!

He stared at the photo. Some blurry memories of the crash above them, and some humping and kissing acts and shirt tearing, oh dear lord… What had I DONE? OH FOOLISH ME! I'm not supposed to make any move on Gregory! Oh stupid stupid me! 

With a heavy heart, Mycroft replied to Gregory's message. 

_Don't remember what happened. I can take care of myself just fine. - MH_

\---

Greg read Mycroft's reply as he sat down at his table for lunch. What could he expect from the Iceman anyway? He drank his beer as the photographer took photos of his sad and lonely self.


End file.
